Yan Jin's voice carried a cold, unyielding resolve as he taunted the Bloodwitch, his words piercing the air like the arrows he loosed. "Old witch, you think you've lost everything? Let me show you real pain," he declared, releasing an arrow that sped past the Bloodwitch without making contact.
For a brief moment, the Bloodwitch sneered, thinking his aim had faltered, but then realization dawned on her. Yan Jin's arrow was not meant for her—it was meant for someone else. She whipped around, her eyes widening in horror as she saw the arrow flying straight toward her granddaughter, Fu Miao.
With a swift movement, she lashed out her tendrils, intercepting the arrow just in time to save the girl. The tendrils wrapped around the projectile, crushing it into dust before it could reach its target. But the momentary relief was overshadowed by a sickening dread.
"Why are you here?" she yelled at Fu Miao, her voice a mixture of fury and panic.
Yan Jin's mocking voice echoed through the air. "So even monsters don't eat their own cubs," he bellowed, unleashing another series of arrows toward the Bloodwitch, forcing her into a defensive stance. Each arrow came with a force that rattled her very core, compelling her to shield herself against the relentless onslaught.
As she raised her defenses, a barrage of explosions and crackling energy engulfed her, obscuring her vision and buying Yan Jin the time he needed. He dashed toward Scar, putting as much distance between himself and the Bloodwitch as possible.
Behind the shroud of energy, Fu Miao, caught in the chaos, looked at her grandmother with wide, terrified eyes. "Why are you doing this?" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to comprehend the situation. "Run away... Just know Grandma did it for your future," the Bloodwitch rasped, her voice now laden with regret and desperation.
"No, Grandma, please stop! Let's leave here. I don't want any of this," Fu Miao cried out, her voice breaking as she reached out for her grandmother's tendrils. Her touch was gentle, filled with the innocent hope that the carnage could be stopped.
But the Bloodwitch's instincts screamed that something was wrong. There was a strange detachment in Fu Miao's voice, a dissonance that didn't fit the situation. The Bloodwitch acted on pure instinct, slashing at her granddaughter with a swift motion, only to see Fu Miao dissolve into nothingness—a mere illusion.
"You bastard!" the Bloodwitch roared, her voice echoing with rage and frustration. Yan Jin's ploy had worked, giving him the crucial seconds he needed. When she finally cleared the distance, her target was nowhere near. Yan Jin had already widened the gap between them, closing in on Scar with each passing moment.
He adjusted his aim, targeting Sacha's weak points. He could hear the slight hitch in Sacha's breath, the subtle shift in the rhythm of his heartbeat that indicated pain. Each arrow was a precise strike, aimed to cripple and distract, to give Scar the advantage he needed. But Sacha was relentless, his fury driving him to new heights of aggression.
He lashed out with talons and beak, every attack aimed at tearing Scar apart.
The battle was a brutal, exhausting affair, and Yan Jin could feel his own strength waning with each passing moment. The Heretical God Eye state was powerful, but it was also a double-edged sword, draining his energy at an alarming rate. He gritted his teeth, pushing through the fatigue, knowing that he couldn't afford to falter. Every shot had to count, every arrow needed to find its mark.
As he released another arrow, he heard the sharp intake of breath from Sacha, followed by a roar of pain. The sound was deafening, reverberating through the air like a shockwave. Yan Jin felt the force of it, the pressure bearing down on him like a physical weight.
He resisted the urge to cover his ears, instead focusing on the sound of Scar's wings as they beat against the air, the steady rhythm a beacon in the chaos.
Scar was pressing the advantage now, his attacks more aggressive, more determined. Yan Jin could hear the rush of air as Scar's wings sliced through it, the deep, resonant sound of his powerful muscles straining with each movement. Sacha's screeches were becoming more desperate, the rhythm of his heartbeat erratic and unsteady.
The corruption was taking its toll, weakening him, but it also made him more dangerous, his attacks fueled by a mad desperation.
Yan Jin shifted his position, feeling the wind shift around him as he moved. He could smell the change in the air, the scent of rain mingling with the acrid tang of energy. A storm was brewing, both in the sky above and in the battle below. The tension was palpable, a thick, oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe.
But Yan Jin pushed through it, focusing on the sounds, the smells, the vibrations that painted the picture of the battle in his mind.
He could hear Scar's labored breathing, the strain in his voice as he called out to Sacha again. "Please, Sacha, stop this!"
But Sacha's response was nothing more than a growl, a guttural, animalistic sound that sent a shiver down Yan Jin's spine. The corruption had consumed him, twisted him into something unrecognizable. Yan Jin could feel the darkness radiating from him, a black, oily presence that seemed to leech the very life out of the air around him.